Month: August, 2017

New Muslim teaching: rape is hard at first—
But pretty soon the victim really cums
And grants her rapists unimagined sums
Of gratitude, with which she seems to burst.
Those who do not respond so are accursed,
Their hearts wrapped in a prejudice that numbs!
Those bitches need to cease to flap their gums.
What anti-Muslim falsehoods they’ve rehearsed!
Ladies of Europe, please prepare your parts
For thrills beyond your wildest dreams! As planned,
The Muslim rapist gangs have all you tarts
On their list. They can never be unmanned
By tears or empty speechifying arts.
Francis and Merkel hope you understand.

“Everything here is on a timer, sir.”
Already I can hear the threatened bell.
“A planner shouldn’t be a worrier.
Everything here is on a timer, sir—
And, when alarms go off, my teammates stir.
Order is not an emblem, sir, of Hell.
Everything here is on a timer, sir!”
Already I can hear the threatened bell.

How could they stop the son of Zeus Ammon?
A god can overcome all opposition
Except from other gods. Mere superstition?
No, lad: it is a verity long known
And proven in this instance. With a groan,
Mere mortal potentates beheld his mission
Fulfilled in fulmination, not attrition.
His fiery passage unmade realms of stone.
This was a king to capture every pawn
And lord it over every rook that fell
Athwart his path. But then, in Babylon,
On his way to enlighten and compel
The West, he reached some limit and was gone.
What god defeated him we cannot tell.

Editors of America are pissed.
They assail Trump, who’s not a perfect guy
Like President Obama. Tell a lie?
Obama wouldn’t — though, if you insist
On drawing up an unappealing list,
That keep-your-healthcare-plan thing went awry,
That stuff about Benghazi didn’t fly,
And no one asked about that Kal Penn tryst.
Yes, in Obama we could take just pride,
He bowed before so many overseas.
He drew a red line boldly — then denied
That he had drawn a line. Light as a breeze,
He aided cronies. All were satisfied.
Give us another leader like him, please!

Received your list of BLM requests,
Chanelle — and read it closely as I could.
I’m living in an upscale neighborhood.
Plus, I’m as white as, say, Cate Blanchett’s breasts.
When men insist, I fail submission tests.
I never can quite kowtow as I should.
My ears become like hard, unyielding wood.
The no I utter just once never rests.
Girls are another matter, I concede.
My urge to please the girls is hyperactive.
I can be made to follow where they lead.
I don’t reflect. At best, my mind’s refractive.
Oh, resubmit your bossy list, I plead,
From a black girl who’s actually attractive!